


Stuck In Neverland (My Peter Pan)

by Littlebutterfly



Category: One Direction
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Bullying, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, M/M, Mental Disorder, Mental Illness, Peter Pan - Freeform, Punk, Punk Harry, age regression?, flower child, flowerchild!Louis, peter pan syndrome, psychiatric disorder, punk!harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4368644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlebutterfly/pseuds/Littlebutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'From a distance, Louis looked like your every day sweet boy that wore baggy sweaters and spent hours upon end weaving flowers together and talking to local cats he came across, but in reality- he was so much more than that. '</p><p>Or<br/>Harry's a rough punk.<br/>Louis has Peter Pan Syndrome, his brain tells him he's five.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck In Neverland (My Peter Pan)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> No, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you. No, you're not imagining things.  
> I've decided to restart this fic, as I started writing this when I was sixteen, and I'm now twenty. I wasn't happy with the writing style, so have decided to restart it all.  
> The story line will be identical, the writing is just going to be better and more thought out.  
> Hope this is okay with you all!  
> Lots of love xx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Louis was unlike anyone he had ever met before. He wasn’t like the other nineteen year olds that would take him behind the club late every Friday night, or the other nineteen year olds who he’d come for when he needed a new packet of cigarettes.... Louis was full of everything happy. He was like that old poem about sugar and spice and all things nice, except Louis was made of the rays of sunshine on cloudy days, and the melted marshmallows in hot chocolate, and the smell of a field of flowers, and he couldn’t wipe the smile off of Harry’s face."
> 
> Harry takes Louis out to the park and for ice cream, and Jay tells Harry what's really wrong with the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is F I N A L L Y here!  
> I tried writing this so many times, and finished it last night but my computer spazzed and deleted everything and I genuinely nearly just gave the entire thing up.  
> I'm so excited to continue this now though!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for updates on what's happening in all my fics and shots! adorlouis.tumblr.com 
> 
> Anyway, here's nearly 3000 words of fluff xo

From a distance, Louis looked like your every day sweet nineteen-year-old boy that wore baggy sweaters and sang Disney songs down the street and spent hours upon end weaving flowers together and talking to local cats he came across.  
But in reality… he was so much more than that.

Louis had Peter Pan syndrome, a mental disorder that caused his brain to react to things in the same way a five year old child might. He wasn't simple though, he was bright as a button- just perhaps not in ways that was considered normal.  
With his bright Caribbean blue eyes, feathered wind-swept chestnut hair, cheek bones that could cut diamond, and a curvy, tiny body which made even the boys who would swear to being straight as a ruler drool, he was every bit the physical appearance of a handsome (beautiful, even) nineteen year old boy, though Louis couldn't be more oblivious to any of that.  
His brain revolved around flowers, colouring books, teddy bears and stories.

 

Louis sat on the soft grass of the city park, his favourite place in the whole wide world.  
Flowers made Louis happy, and the flowers in the local garden were free to come and take as you pleased. Though Louis was the only one above the age of seven who really took advantage of it. (Which he didn't mind... people his own age weren't often very nice.)

He would spend hours upon hours there every single day without fail, from morning until just before dinner (his mummy made sure to have him home before the sun went down… the world wasn’t a nice place for boys like Louis.)  
He sat weaving together the long stems of the coloured wild flowers he had picked as he hummed softly to 'lavender blue', completely stuck in the moment, completely focussed on making sure that his little flowers would weave together to create the perfect flower crown.

Louis was the picture of innocence, the picture of absolute beauty with his thick eyelashes fluttering down to watch the flowers, his baby soft lips singing softly to the tune that played in his head, and his small body tucked in amongst the flowers…. He was everyone’s dream catch.  
But as it would have it, while many would look at Louis with lust filled eyes and dirty thoughts polluting their brain about absolutely ruining the innocent boy, the same groups would get glimpses at Louis closer up, and would notice the odd differences between him and other boys.  
They’d notice that those ocean blue eyes only saw the kindness and sweetness in the world, that those baby soft lips only focussed on sugary sweets and singing his favourite songs… That tiny body that was only made for oversized jumpers and cuddles.  
And then those teenagers would turn nasty.  
Because that's the thing with teenagers, isn't it? They find the slightest ray of sunshine and they destroy it.

 

 

"Check him out, he's weaving flowers together like a prairie girl."  
Sunshine destroyers.

It was a spring day in Doncaster that day, and Louis had thought that everything in the world was absolutely perfect. The sky was as blue as his eyes, and the sun kissed his tanned skin. The flowers were bright and in full bloom and Louis couldn't be more happy. Not even the cackling laugh of school-yard bullied could dull his sparkle. 

Not until one of them decided that it would be a hilarious idea to take the flowers that Louis had been weaving together since 9:30am that morning.  
That was where the sunshine inside of Louis broke a little bit.

Louis’ flowers were ripped from his delicate hands, and tears began to fill his eyes as nasty slurs began to get thrown left, right and centre. 

"What? Are you going cry like a baby over some flowers?"  
"He is a baby," the other reminded. The belittling, immature bullying causing a cackle from the rest of the group.  
They were like a hungry, cackling back of hyena’s. They worked off each other, coaxing each other on with nasty, horrible comments towards the sweet, baby antelope that was Louis Tomlinson.

Louis wasn’t a baby. He knew he wasn’t a baby. He was nineteen. And besides, babies weren’t allowed to go and make flower crowns in the garden.  
He wasn’t a baby. He wasn’t.  
But the words still stung, they still tore at his heart and ripped at his insides and caused wet tears to seep from his eyes.  
“I’m not a baby..."

The sunshine inside of Louis was breaking.

 

 

xo-xo-xo

 

Harry Styles was the opposite of Louis.  
If Louis was the sun, Harry was the moon.  
If Louis was all things sugar sweet and beautiful, Harry was all things dark and mysterious.

With a body covered in tattoos that only he knew the true meaning of, and emerald eyes that were always coated in black soot, a face of metal piercings and a body that proudly displayed several scars... People either envied him or feared him.  
Often both.  
Based on appearance, and every encounter that the general public had with him... He was hardly the sort of boy you'd expect to butt in on a group of bullies when he himself looked like he could be president of the god-damn club.  
But Harry could hear the pathetic whimpers, and the even more pathetic bullying that was the cause of those whimpers.  
Fuck, Harry couldn't stand people who bullied for no reason.  
All he wanted was to enjoy a day in the sunshine, and he wasn't going to have a bunch of idiots ruin it.

 

"What the fuck are you doing?"  
Harry had seen the innocent boy around before. This park was Louis' usual place to come to, and harry would often see the boy fiddling with the flowers while he'd be having a cigarette on the park bench.  
He was peculiar by any means, but Harry didn't deem that as a worthy enough reason to harass him. Shit, Louis probably didn't even understand the very idea of being nasty to someone.

"Fuck off, Styles. We've got it covered," the lead of the first group hissed, his hand opening and crumpled flower petals falling sadly to the ground.  
The look on Louis' face mimicked the broken petals, and Harry felt his stomach twist with the whimper that escaped Louis' wobbly lips.

"Leave him alone, yeah?" Harry's voice was low. It was deep and if looks could kill, the whole group would be in a body pile on the ground.

"You can have your fun with him later. Don't bother trying to get anything from him- the retard knows nothing. He's only good for fucking with." The smirk from the boy who had pulled at Louis' sweater was nasty and vindictive, and Harry had enough.

He'd seen these boys around before. They were trouble.  
He'd seen the way that they'd often bully Louis for no other reason than 'just because'.  
So Harry responded in the way that Harry responded best to people that deserved it.  
A tattooed fist collided with a shocked face.  
He had it coming for weeks, honestly. Jerk.

 

Poor Louis was a mess, louis hated loud noises and arguments as much as he liked kittens and cuddles. The dead flowers on the ground was one thing, but seeing and hearing physical violence in front of him was a whole other matter... And the boy was crying into his arms, sniffling and whimpering and sobbing into his wet sleeves, his eyes hidden in the material.  
"You lay another hand on him and you're dead, understand?" Harry growled, leaving no room to be messed with. Sometimes, his look worked in his favour... And the fact that the previous group of 'tough' looking teenagers had now scattered as far as possible was proof of exactly that. 

 

Harry was tough. Harry was tattoo's and dark makeup and scars and piercings.  
But Harry also had a heart as big as all of England... He just didn't let it come out unless it was necessary.  
Seeing a sniffling, sad boy who deserved nothing but kindness was one of those times.  
"Hey there" Harrys tone softened dramatically as he pressed a hand to the sobbing boy, a frown etched on his lips as louis looked up at him with eyes that were full of fear, "hey, hey... I'm not going to hurt you. Your names Louis, yeah?"  
Louis' response came as a sad little sniffle and a nod, and Harry smiled softly, picking the few petals that hadn't been completely ruined up.  
"I'm Harry... I really liked your flower crown, and I'm sorry those boys destroyed it..." His eyes met Louis' for a moment, and both were equally as soft as each others.  
"Want me to help you make another? Or... I mean, I can stay with you while you make one, I'm afraid I don't know much about making them..." He flicked a little smile as he reached a hand out to Louis to hand him the small pile of flowers.  
Okay, so maybe Harry wasn't as bad arsed as he liked to think be was.

"Hazzy."  
The name sounded like a gentle lullaby from Louis' lips, and Harry couldn't help but watch him curiously. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard anyone over the age of two refer to him as 'Hazzy' before.  
But with another echo of the name, a slow nod of agreement and another bunch of flowers, Louis was back to silently working on his flower crown, as if Harry wasn't even there. His eyes were dry again, like the upset from only a few minutes ago was completely gone in the process of creating a new crown.

 

"How old are you, Louis? I haven't seen you at school," Harry asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Depends," came Louis' answer, "m'nineteen.... But up here Im a little boy," he tapped at his temple, barely even looking at Harry before he returned back to the flowers, as if he'd just said the sky was blue, or grass was green...  
And alright, that was fairly odd. But so was coal lined eyelids and three ear piercings and a double lip piercing, so Harry wasn't really one to judge.  
"I'm seventeen," came his simple reply.

Harry had an entire bookshelf of questions hurrying through his mind. He had so much to ask, so much that he wanted to know. But the comfortable silence surrounding the air was paper thin, and Harry didn't want to break Louis' concentration.  
Louis was content with his flowers and having someone big and strong to make sure no one else broke them, and Harry was pretty okay with watching the odd boy too.

"I like your tattoos.... they're really pretty. Lots of colours," Louis spoke up after some time, and Harry was taken back a bit.  
The multiple dark, seemingly scary tattoos that littered his body would hardly be considered 'pretty'. And if it had come from anyone else, Harry would have punched their head in for trying to belittle his art.  
But Harry was quite sure that Louis didn't have a single sarcastic or nasty bone in his whole body.  
"Thank you.... I like your flower crown," He responded when louis held the crown up, settling it on his head, "all done?"  
Louis nodded, smiling ever so slightly now. All was right in the world. He had his flowers back again.  
"Mummy said I have to be home before dark," he said in answer to an unspoken question, and Harry stood up with a nod.  
"I'll take you home then, come on."

Louis was a big boy. Louis knew his way home, he knew how to look across the road to make sure that he was careful of cars. He knew not to go up to strange people and talk to them... But he wasn't going to say no to having Harry help him up and help him to brush the grass from his pants and to walk by his side as they went home.  
Besides, Harry wasn't a stranger.  
He knew lot's about him.

 

"You live across the road from me," Louis announced, his eyes cast down at the pavement as he began to hop over the cracks.  
Ah, so that's where Harry had seen Louis before. 

"You have a cat, I pet her when she comes out to the pavement," louis continued, before he looked up at Harry with a bright smile, his blue eyes holding a glimmer behind them.

 

Harry was absolutely, completely intrigued by the boy. He'd never met anyone like Louis.  
Louis was so full of childish innocence. He was sweet and soft spoken and gentle and Harry couldn't help but be entranced by him.  
Louis was different to say the least, but something about it was oddly endearing, and Harry couldn't help but want to find out more about the sweet boy. He couldn't help but feel somewhat protective over him.  
"Will you be making your flower crowns again tomorrow?" Harry asked, and Louis hesitated for the first time.

"There's mean boys, I don't like mean boys. I don't think I want to come play out here anymore..."

And Harry saw a wide open window of opportunity, "what if you went with me?" He offered as he stopped at the pathway of louis' house.  
"I'll pick you up here, we can go together and I'll take you back home. Not a single mean boy, sound good?"

Louis' eyes absolutely lit up. He'd seen how scared those boys had been of Harry (though he couldn't understand why). If Harry was there, no one would ever try and hurt his flowers.  
"Good," louis nodded once in agreement, before he looked towards his house, seeing his mum waiting at the doorway for him, "I gotta go now, I'll see you tomorrow! Bye-bye Hazzy!"  
That was that.

 

xo-xo-xo

 

"Who was that, Lou?" Jay asked over dinner that night.  
"That's Hazzy. He's my new best friend in the whole wide world."


End file.
